Marchin' On
by J.A. Aisling
Summary: Some stories are meant to be rewritten; some forgotten. Throughout his life, Finn Hudson held in his heart a story that he would never forget but would rewrite if he could. Now, he is delving into the past and facing his demons one final time.
1. Chapter 1

The dusty shelves of Finn Hudson's library felt like old friends as he scanned them for one leather-bound piece of work in particular. With each step on the creaky wood flooring, a cloud of glimmering dust rose into the air, giving the place a sort of ancient, misty atmosphere. Tiny rods of sunlight seeped into the room through the foggy windows, effectively illuminating Finn's path. The air smelled rather dank, but the effect was welcoming and familiar. It all brought back so many memories.

Finn grunted slightly when he passed through an entire row of books without finding the one that he so diligently sought. The grandchildren were downstairs, and he didn't wish to keep them waiting for long. They would grow impatient, which would make reading to them quite a difficult task, and Finn needed them to hear this story. It was more important than any fairytale full of princesses and dragons. It was more valuable than any fable with a cliché moral.

It was everything to him.

For years, he had kept the old thing hidden away, fearful of allowing the world to see it. His family had pleaded him relentlessly to reveal the secrets and adventures that lay buried beneath the thick binding, but he had declined. No time had been the right time back in those days.

However, he was growing so old, and his memories were beginning to slip away from him. As the days dragged on, Finn would lose sight of things that had once been directly in front of him. Images in his mind began to fade and tear around the edges, leaving him with blurry, unrecognizable traces of things that were once vital. Twice already he had been caught feeding his elderly dog too many times in one day. He even managed to mix up the names of his grandchildren every so often, which worried him deeply.

He needed to get this story out before everything left him completely.

After what felt like ages of searching, his wrinkled hand found the surface of the familiar parcel. With trembling fingers, he lifted it from the shelf and, with a short swipe of his sleeve, relieved the front cover of a thin layer of dust. His lips formed a soft grin as he tucked the book under the crook of his elbow and carefully made his way out of the library. After a swift final glance around the room, he closed the door behind him and headed down to the den, where his lovely grandchildren were undoubtedly squirming in their seats with anticipation.

The book felt heavy in his grasp as he neared his destination. It had remained unopened for at least sixty years at that point, and he was about to unleash its memories once more. He wasn't sure whether or not his emotions could handle it, but he needed to try; for the kids. Someone needed to hear this story. It wasn't meant to go untold forever. Now was the time.

Finn beamed the second he laid eyes on his grandchildren, Stella and Jack. They were perched on a single armchair that practically swallowed them whole, and it was one of the most adorable sights that Finn had ever witnessed. Jack, the older of the two, was on the far left side of the chair with his arms folded sternly as his sister, Stella, grabbed at his hair and giggled. At thirteen, Jack was one of the most mature and calm children that Finn had ever met, while Stella, who had recently turned six, was quite hyperactive. Finn loved them equally, though. In fact, the two of them were basically his entire world. He spoiled them to bits.

"Papa, are you going to read that?" Jack inquired softly before gently pulling Stella into his lap so that she couldn't tug at his hair any longer.

Finn took a deep, shaky breath before nodding and lifting the tattered book up for the kids to see clearly.

"Is it about a princess? Last time, you read about Cinderella and her magic boot." Stella squealed hopefully with wide, shimmering eyes.

Finn chuckled and reached for his swatch of cloth to clean his glasses with. He had indeed read Cinderella to the kids several nights before, which had been quite an ordeal for both Jack and Stella. Jack, who was definitely growing too old to tolerate stories of that nature, had quietly stormed out of the room before Cinderella had even arrived at the ball, muttering things about "girl books" and "stupid princesses". Stella, on the other hand, had been absolutely elated to finally hear the story of her favorite Disney character. She had spent the next few hours darting around her bedroom with her tiny arms outstretched, giggling about being a fairy. While she hadn't exactly gotten the purpose of the story or retained any details whatsoever, it had been one of the most memorable nights of her life. Finn saw it as a rite of passage for her. Every little girl needs to feel like a princess at some point.

"No, this story isn't about a princess or her magical shoes. It's a special kind of story, and you two are going to be the very first to hear it." He declared quietly, earning a small pout from Stella, who had clearly gotten her heart set on a second princess tale.

"Then what is it about?" Jack asked, stroking Stella's mousy-brown hair gingerly in an effort to calm her.

"It's sort of an adventure. It's a lot of different things, actually. Like I said, it's special. Very special. Even your mommy hasn't read it." Finn whispered in response, trying to get the kids interested.

At 'adventure', both Jack and Stella's faces lit up with anticipation. Finn had been reading traditional kiddie stories to the two of them since they were born, but none had been real adventures. He couldn't even count the number of times that he had overheard the kids playing outdoors, openly crafting their own little adventures utilizing only a log and some grass. They had overactive imaginations, just like their mother, and it showed. He had been saving their first adventure story for this one, though. It would leave more of an impact, and it was very special to him.

"Can you start, papa?" Stella pleaded in her trademark squeaky soprano voice.

Finn nodded slowly before laying his palm on the book. As he worked to undo the buckle that sealed the whole thing shut, he thought about what he was gearing up to do. It was going to be difficult and emotional, but it was necessary. He continued to tell himself that as the buckle fell open and the pages were liberated from the binding. Sighing, he turned to the title page and cleared his throat before beginning to read the dedication scrawled in sloppy script directly in the center of the page.

"The person who wrote this dedicated it to his wife, with love." He whispered hoarsely, immediately feeling his throat go dry.

"Papa, you said this was an adventure story, not a love story." Jack whimpered, suddenly afraid that he was going to be forced to endure another Cinderella-like novel.

Finn wiped at his eyes and flipped to the first page of the book. It was scribbled in disorderly handwriting, but he had no trouble making out the familiar text. Temporarily mesmerized by the mere sight of the words, Finn ran his index finger over the lines, feeling the indentations that the author's pen had left as he had written. Each loop, dot, and dash was a story of its own, and Finn couldn't help but be captivated by the magic and power of the words. He almost wished that he had read more back in high school.

"Jack, love is an adventure." He muttered before positioning his hands on either side of the book and leaning back into his own armchair.

After clearing his throat once more, Finn began to read.


	2. Chapter 2

"It was the summer after a long, torturous senior year at William McKinley High School. The students, finally liberated from academics for a while, were busy training for fall sports, packing up their things for college, or simply lounging out in the sunshine. One graduate, however, possessed a great disdain for that summer vacation in particular. Unlike his fortunate peers, he didn't have any athletic achievements to look forward to, and he wasn't able to afford any sort of college education. Instead, he was penned up inside of his girlfriend's house, helping her to prepare to live out her dreams while his were hastily shoved aside and forgotten. This boy's name was Finn Hudson." Finn read hoarsely, hoping that Jack and Stella would be able to follow along despite their rudimentary knowledge of vocabulary.

"Wait, papa, isn't that your name?" Jack asked, his tone laced with confusion.

"Yes, I suppose that it is." Finn replied with a smirk.

Jake furrowed his brow curiously before giving up and settling back into his chair, causing Stella to squirm in protest. Finn, sensing that Jack had moved on from his observation, pushed his glasses farther up onto the bridge of his nose before returning to the story. As the words rolled effortlessly off of his tongue as if they had been hovering there all along, the living room faded around Finn, and he was engulfed by memories of the past. Somehow, his subconscious forced him to continue to read the words aloud as he felt himself get whisked away into the familiar world of Lima, Ohio.

* * *

><p>"Rachel, do you really need to bring a book about meatballs with you to New York? I mean, you're a vegan. Besides, you're going to Julliard, not Princeton. Are you really going to be reading much?" Finn groaned before tossing a colorful book entitled "The Magic of Meatballs" towards Rachel, who was waist-deep in unsorted articles of clothing.<p>

As happy as he was for Rachel and her inevitable success, Finn was growing quite agitated with the thought of her leaving for New York. All summer, he had been watching everybody, including his own family, fawn relentlessly over Rachel's plans. It was as if her trip to New York was equivalent to the finding of the Holy Grail or the resurrection of Christ himself. Finn loved Rachel more than anything else in the world, but he knew in his heart that he needed to start thinking about himself instead of her for once. He didn't have a job, which meant that he wouldn't have the means to fly to NYC to pay a visit to Rachel when the time came. Unfortunately, nobody in Lima was hiring, so things were looking pretty hopeless.

That is, things were looking hopeless until he had stumbled upon a National Guard recruiting tent on the way to the convenience store one day. Seeing the giant, tough-looking posters and the regal men and women in their uniforms had been a huge eye-opener for Finn. Sure, he wasn't much of a fighter, but he could be one hell of a leader, and, in the military, he could use his skills to make a living and help people. Besides, his father had died for this country, so it only seemed fitting that Finn carry on his legacy.

The only problem was clearing the idea with his parents and Rachel, of course. He hoped that Burt and his mom would understand, since there weren't any wars going on. He imagined that his only duties would be to pick stray cats out of trees and stuff, which wasn't so bad. He was really only considering it as a way to earn an income and kill some time while Rachel went off to New York. He needed to make his decision soon, though, because Initial Entry Training began in a few weeks, and he wouldn't want to be late.

But how was he supposed to run the idea by Rachel? She was the most emotionally fragile girl that he had ever met, and she sure as hell would not take her boyfriend joining the National Guard lightly. It wouldn't matter how many flawless arguments Finn could pose against Rachel's concerns. She would never want him to go out and risk his life, no matter how small the risks were.

In order to hide the truth from her, which Finn hated doing but found quite necessary; he had been storing his informative pamphlets on the matter underneath the rug in front of his bedroom door. Rachel would never think to look under there and neither would his family. And then, when they all left him alone for the night, he could quietly remove them and read them with the help of the light from his desk lamp, only to swiftly replace them underneath the rug by morning.

"As a matter of fact, Finn, I enjoy reading things about the culinary arts, and my grandmother gave me this book as a gift!" Rachel retorted before slamming the odd meatball book onto her stack of things to take with her to NYC.

"Do you need help bringing that box to your car?" Finn asked, motioning towards one of the full, cardboard boxes and trying to change the subject as to not raise Rachel's sensitive temper any further.

Rachel, who was still a bit flustered from the meatball argument, shook her head and stood up to grab the box. Finn bit his lip as he watched Rachel struggle to lift the heavy object. It was so difficult to restrain from moving to help her out, but she obviously wanted to make some sort of a point. He wasn't going to stop her from boosting her self-esteem, not that she was lacking in that area. She really did have overwhelming amounts of confidence in herself.

"Are you sure you've got it?" Finn inquired as Rachel's knees began to tremble under the weight of the box.

"I'm fine, Finn." She grumbled surely, making her way out of the room.

Unfortunately, she didn't make it past the doorframe. One of her feet got caught under Finn's rug, effectively causing her to lose her balance. The box fell to the floor with a loud thump, and Rachel plummeted to the ground.

"Rach, are you okay?" Finn asked frantically, leaving his spot on the floor to attend to Rachel, who was rubbing her wrist furiously.

"Yeah, I should be fine. It's just my wrist. I landed the wrong way. You know, I would have been able to carry that stupid box if it hadn't been for this rug. We should move it so that this doesn't happen again." She scolded angrily, reaching over to lift the rug from the ground.

Finn, instantly remembering the stash of brochures beneath the mat, took Rachel's hand into his own and directed it away from the rug. He couldn't allow her to find out about the decision that he was facing. Not yet, at least. He wasn't nearly ready to deal with her emotions, and he hadn't even prepared a good argument yet. Besides, Rachel would never be able to live with herself if she knew that Finn wanted to go off and join the armed forces. Knowing her, she would threaten to do something crazy to get him to stay, and he would feel pressured to oblige. She knew exactly how to turn him into the biggest push over in America.

"Are you afraid? It's just a rug, Finn." Rachel chided, smirking.

Before he had the chance to restrain her, Rachel reached out with her other hand and snatched the rug from the ground, causing the pamphlets to scatter around the area.

"W-What are these?" She choked with wide eyes, gathering the brochures in her tiny hands and examining the front covers curiously.

Finn bit his lip and held his breath as he watched Rachel scour the packets, probably searching for some kind of sign that they were for school purposes or something. Her brain was probably working at a thousand miles per minute at the moment, trying to convince her that Finn wasn't really hoarding National Guard information with the intent of joining. He wasn't sure how he was going to break it to her that he was.

"Oh, I get it. It's perfectly reasonable that you should have these, although I sort of wish that you had just asked me instead of buying informational booklets." She confessed finally, breaking the tense silence that had followed her discovery of the documents.

"Wait, what?"

"Finn, silly, if you wanted to research the National Guard to learn more about your father, you could have just asked me to find some reliable and thorough sources on the internet for you. I would have been happy to do it, although I'm fairly certain that your father was in the Navy, not the National Guard. You do know that there is a difference, right? I mean, it's common kno-"

"R-Rachel, I'm not doing this because of my dad." Finn interjected, unable to listen to Rachel's nervous rambling any longer. He knew for a fact that she was just grasping at straws in order to find a way out of the nightmare that was sure to come.

"I'm doing it for me." He declared bravely, staring directly into Rachel's watery eyes.

His heart shattered into millions of unrecoverable pieces when Rachel let out a heart wrenching gasp of terror. She was no fool. She knew exactly what Finn was getting at, and he could already see the hurt and deceit in her eyes.

"You're researching. You're doing it for a summer project. It's just a summer thing, right? Finn, please tell me that this is for the sake of education. I need to hear those words." She pleaded as her voice began to crack and falter.

Finn took Rachel's hands in his own, gasping audibly when he felt how badly they were shaking. She was unraveling right before his eyes, and he wasn't sure how much more he could take before he cracked. He nearly lost his train of thought when the first of many tears rolled down Rachel's cheek.

"Rachel, this isn't for school, but it is for me." He started softly, squeezing Rachel's hands soothingly.

"I want to join the National Guard."

* * *

><p>"Papa, is Rachel going to be mad at Finn? Is he really going to join the army?" Stella peeped curiously, causing Finn to pause his reading and snap back into reality.<p>

"I hope he joins the army, papa. I would if it were me." Jack declared proudly before using his fingers to imitate a gun and making little shooting noises while pretending to aim at various object around the dimly-lit den.

"You'll see, kids. You'll see." Finn sighed with a small grin before delving into the tale once more.


End file.
